


When Hot and Sassy Falls from the Sky

by AlexiaHalloran



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Cinnamon Roll Peter Parker, Damaged Loki, Damaged Tony Stark, Dark Past, Depression, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Heavy Drinking, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm trying I promise, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki likes his Basement, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Scars, Self-Harm, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, the beginnings of recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaHalloran/pseuds/AlexiaHalloran
Summary: Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and genius finds himself with the god of mischief locked in his basement and a large bottle of whiskey. Every action has its repercussions, and as Manhattan burns around him, the remnants of the Chitauri scattered across the city, Tony realizes he must face what he has done and deal with what will happen. The only question is if he will stand alone...





	1. There's a God in my Basement

**Author's Note:**

> Ok this chapter is really short because it's entire purpose is just to introduce the context of this fic and provide a couple of tidbits of crucial information - but I hope you guys like it anyway and there are more to come. Also, I know Peter hasn't technically met Tony yet but he's here anyway because he's a cinnamon roll and there's reason behind it I promise.

Loki was in his goddamned basement. Thor, stubborn mule and push-over that he was, had given them exactly three weeks to put all their affairs in order and console the human population that Loki was no longer a threat. Then Loki would be returned to Asgard.  
There had been press-conferences. So many press conferences to attend. Rogers had been upset Loki was still on the planet and the team had spent forever deliberating about what to do next. They all knew that Loki was still liable to cause trouble, even locked up in a hulk-proof room in Tony’s sub-basement.  
Everyone was asleep now, all deadass exhausted from the events of the last few days.  
Everyone except for Tony, who was sitting bleary eyed at the kitchen table, head in his hands. In the rooms around him his friends slept like the dead, each bruised and battered from their heroism.  
“Hey Mr. Stark.”  
Correction - everyone except for Tony and Peter.  
“Why the fuck are you still awake?”  
“Dude I took like a nap earlier.”  
Tony sighed and looked up at Peter, “You took a nap.”  
“Yeah.”  
“You took a nap in the middle of a fucking alien attack.”  
“I was tired, man.”  
“Whatever.”  
Peter plopped down across the table from Tony and propped his head on his fists, “You ok, Mr. Stark?”  
“I’m fine.” Tony mumbled.  
“Hey what happened to Loki?”  
Tony took drained his whiskey glass, “He’s in the basement.”  
“Wow really?”  
Tony blinked, “Yes. Really.”  
“Yo, Mr. Stark, do you think I could talk to him?”  
Setting down the whiskey glass he was still holding with a clack, Tony stared across the table, “Kid, he just tried to take over the whole damn world.”  
“I know. So he must be like really smart, right?”  
“He’s dangerous.”  
“So are you, Mr. Stark.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Dude you can fire like bolts of plasma out your hands and you can fly.”  
Tony shrugged, looking down at his empty glass, “I guess you’re right.”  
Peter just nodded, “Yeah. But don’t take it that way. You’re still a pretty cool guy, Mr. Stark.”  
“Thanks, spider-boy. Now go to bed.”  
“Ok. ‘Night Mr. Stark.”  
“Goodnight, kid.”  
Tony slowly got up from the kitchen table, feeling the ache deep in his bones as he crossed to the window. New York was in chaos. Fires burned in the distance and buildings had toppled where Chitauri leviathans had crashed into them.  
Images of deep space flickered through Tony’s mind, the image of that Chitauri mothership backlight by the fiery white light of a huge star imprinted onto his brain.


	2. In Which Loki Struggles with a Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker's an adorable little shit, Tony Stark takes personal offense at an omelette, and Loki tries to figure out showers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was like a super quick turnaround because I had nothing better to do so here's 1700 words of something. FYI each POC change is marked by a dash

When Loki woke he was in a foreign room. A rather nicely furnished room, but still a room he didn’t want to be in.   
Sitting up, he ran his hand through his hair and looked around. There were no windows, although one wall held some sort of large black screen. Loki was sitting in a large king bed dressed in black linens. Fittingly enough, the carpet was a pale green whilst the furniture was all grey and black.   
He looked down at himself. Someone had wrestled him into a pair of overly baggy sweatpants that hung off his lean hips and an baggy but somehow too-short T-shirt.   
Loki peered down at it.   
The letters ACDC were spelled across it in faded lettering with a lighting bolt drawn between the AC and the DC.  
Sighing, he rolled from the bed and plucked a book from one of the bookcases. Flipping it open at random, he began to read. And almost immediately put it back again. The meaningless rants of human ‘scientists’ were not remotely interesting and rather irksome.   
Someone must have realized that he’d awoken for the door clicked open and a young boy came in. Loki found him to be of immediate interest, largely because he came through the door on the ceiling.   
“Who are you?”  
“Hey Mr. Loki, I’m Peter.”  
Loki paused at the strange formalness of ‘Mr. Loki’ and then peered up at the boy looking down at him from the ceiling, “What are you doing on the ceiling… Peter?”  
Peter shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible.  
“More importantly, how did you get up there? You are not magical.”  
“Magic?” Peter’s eyes went wide, “Dude no I just can like stick to the walls and shit.”  
“Most humans cannot stick to walls.” Loki sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed his long legs, observing the upside-down spider boy.”  
“And most people can’t fly.”  
Loki glared.  
Peter dropped from the ceiling, “Alright look, Mr. Loki, I’ll tell you how I got on the ceiling if you promise not to tell Mr. Stark I was down here.”  
“Why shouldn’t I?”  
“Because I’m betting on the fact that you’re curious and also Mr. Stark would be kinda totally furious if he found out I visited you.”  
“I am dangerous, spider boy.”  
“It’s Spiderman, actually.”  
Peter put his hands in his pockets and plopped down on the edge of an armchair, “Plus, everyone’s dangerous.”  
Loki narrowed his eyes at the spiderling and tilted his head to one side, considering.   
He said nothing.   
Peter shifted awkwardly on his chair, “So anyway, Mr. Loki, why were you trying to like, take over the world and everything? I mean yeah it’s kinda fucked up but it’s not that fucked up, you know?”  
Loki laughed. He tilted his head back and laughed with all of his teeth on display.  
“Little one, you forget. I’ve lived millennia, I’ve seen the rise and fall of civilizations, the rise and fall of entire planets. Your ‘society’, it’s broken. Humans, they need leadership. Without someone to rule over them they dissolve into anarchy.”  
“So… you weren’t just doing it because you wanted to?”  
“Oh no. I did it because I felt so inclined. I simply chose your planet because humans are weak and disorganized. If it hadn’t been for your precious Stark, humanity would already be under my rule once more.”  
“Once more? Dude you’ve been here before?”  
Loki sighed, “I suppose it wasn’t my rule alone. Odin was King. But yes, spiderling. I have been here before.”  
“Huh. That’s cool.”  
Loki couldn’t place this kid. He seemed to simply take everything Loki said, contemplate it for a moment, and then spit out a casual response. It went entirely against anything Loki had ever experienced from the human race. They general either worshipped him, hated him, or simply ran away in fear.   
“Peter, I would advise you that Mr. Stark is on his way downstairs.”  
Loki started at the cool disembodied voice but Peter just leapt up, eyes wide, “Shit I gotta go. Thanks JARVIS. Bye Mr. Loki, it was cool to meet you.”  
Loki stayed silent, watching spider-boy slip out the door and scamper away. He blinked and the lay back down on the bed, summoning a book at random and flipping it open just as Stark walked in the door.

-

Tony walked in on Loki lounging in bed, nose in a book. He blinked and stood stupidly in the doorway for a moment until the god said, without looking up, “Do you plan on continuing standing in the doorway with that plate of food?”  
Startled, Tony stepped into the room and closed the heavy door behind him.   
“I brought food?”  
Loki dropped the book a few inches and stared at Stark over its edge, “So it would seem.”  
“Yeah.”  
Tony put the tray down on the table and crossed his arms.  
“Thor seems to think you’ll be going to back to Asgard.”  
Loki grinned, putting the book aside with a strange gentleness and sitting up, “Thor is an idiot.”  
His black hair was greasy and in need of a wash. In fact, all of him seemed to be in need of a wash. Loki stood from the bed in a graceful movement, crossing the room to stand before Tony who found the sensation of being looked down upon from such close quarters mildly disturbing.  
“I believe the food is behind you.”  
“Yes. That’s where I put it.”  
The hint of a smile crept across Loki’s thin lips and he simply reached over Stark’s head and picked up the tray.  
This brought Tony’s head into remarkably close quarters with the god’s chest for a moment. Blinking, he stood stock still as Loki retreated a couple of feet, picking through the food.  
“Jesus you smell like shit.” Tony finally managed.  
“Space travel is not conducive to maintaining one’s personal hygiene.”  
Loki skeptically picked up a piece of bacon and took a delicate bit from the end. He looked down at the bacon, up at Tony, then back down at the bacon, “Strange.”  
Tony watch the god with a bored look on his face, “Are you just going to nibble on it all day or actually eat it. I plan on taking that plate with me when I leave.”  
Loki grinned, “Perhaps I should simply take the plate hostage.”  
Tony glowered. “He is the fucking god of mischief. Him and his strange green-blue eyes, taking my damn tableware.” he thought to himself, crossing his arms tighter.  
“You’d be stuck with me standing here all day.”  
“Are you that stubborn, Stark? Waiting for a single plate?”  
“Well you’ve got the tray too. It’s my favorite tray. I want it back.”  
“And pray tell where would it go?”  
Tony scoweled.  
The god smiled, eyes twinkling, and set the tray down. He’d eaten the fruit, toast and bacon but left the omelette alone.  
What a waste of a good omelette. Tony snatched up the tray and opened the door. Just before it closed, he stuck his head back in, “And seriously. God or not you need a fucking bath.”  
Tony tramped up the stairs, still glaring at the untouched eggs, and slammed the doors behind him.

-

Loki listened to the muffled sounds of Stark stomping up the stairs followed by a rattling slam. He rolled his eyes and turned to inspecting his surroundings. The room was quite large. Big enough to fit a large dining table, a couch, various bookshelves, and a large four poster bed. There were two other doors embedded in the walls. Loki took it upon himself to find out what lay behind them. One opened to an empty closet while the other concealed a large bathroom. He really could do with a bath.   
He began to examine the contents of the bathroom cabinets. Though he was unsure who the room’s normal occupant was, either they had a strong sense of personal hygiene or Stark simply kept a fully stocked bathroom. Either way, Loki found a straightening iron, various small makeup items, a pile of soft towels and two long bathrobes and assortment of other bathroom paraphernalia.  
Loki stripped off the strangely sized T-shirt, still wondering how exactly he’d gotten into it, and peered at the bath. There were two knobs beside a short spout as well as an oddly shaped device connected to the wall by a hose.   
Standing well away, Loki twisted the first knob. Water came pouring from the lower spout, splashing into the tub. Loki tested the water with his fingers and hissed through his teeth as it burned his fingers. He turned the knob off.   
The other one spat out a much more amicable temperature of water, he discovered, though it was slightly to cool to constitute a bath. Perched on the edge of the bath, Loki fiddled with the knobs until the water finally reached an acceptable temperature. He then manhandled the drain plug so that it stopped the water from draining and stripped off the borrowed pants. Sliding into the bath, he sighed and tilted his head back, dipping his locks of greasy hair into the water.   
Picking up the bar of soap, he began a very long and through cleaning of himself.

-

Dripping wet, he emerged from the warming water and wrapped himself in one of the large towels. Grabbing a second one, he used it to partially dry his hair. Flipping his wet hair over his shoulder, Loki pulled a bottle of ‘leave-in’ conditioner from the cabinet, whatever that meant. He poured some into his palm and sniffed at it skeptically. It smelled of something he didn’t know, but the scent was not unpleasant. Flipping his head upside-down, Loki ran his slimy hands through his hair. Satisfied, he wrapped it up in a towel and piled the whole mess atop his head.   
It was then that Loki realized he had no clean clothes to change into. Rolling his eyes he conjured up his favorite tunic and a pair of trousers. 

Somewhere in Asgard a tunic and pair of trousers disappeared from their place.

He pulled the tunic awkwardly over his towel head and tugged on the pants. Unwrapping his hair, he shook it out and combed his fingers through it. Sighing at his haggard reflection, Loki left the bathroom in search of something to occupy his time.


	3. Polar Bears and Pasta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter crashes a meeting, Tony needs a nap, and Loki likes his basement

Tony leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms. Steve was glaring at him from across the table.  
“What? Where else were we going to put him? Lincoln Correctional?”

Nat shrugged, “He has a point, Steve.”

They were sitting in one of Tony’s conference rooms, studiously ignoring the crowds of paparazzi and press ten stories below them.  
“Sir, the press are banging on the door.”

Tony sighed, “We really should install ejectable sidewalks or something. Just don’t let them in.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Ejectable sidewalks?”

Nat shot Steve a warning look.

“Maybe we should’ve just sent him back to Asgard.”

Bruce was holding tightly to his cup of tea and looking mildly anxious. 

“Yeah well Thor ran off to do something so we’re stuck with him.”

Tony rubbed his face with his hands, “Someone needs to go talk to the bastards downstairs.”

Steve opened his mouth but Tony cut him off, “No way.”

“Guys what if we just showed them Loki isn’t dangerous?”

Everybody looked up.

Peter was perched on the ceiling. Again.

“Kid, what did I tell you about the ceiling thing. You gotta stop it.”

Peter dropped down to land on the table, “Sorry, Mr. Stark. But it would work.”

Nat raised her eyebrows at him, “What would work.”

“Well, showing the public that Mr. Loki isn’t dangerous.”

“But he is.” Tony threw up his hands in exasperation. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

Peter sat down in the middle of the table, “Mr. Stark I mean it.”

“How would bringing him into public prove he’s not dangerous.”

“Well if we can prove that he’s not going to go around attacking people, maybe they’d calm down.”

Everyone looked at Bruce.

“He’s right, you know.”

Everyone looked back at Peter who just shrugged.

“Alright fine-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Steve.” Nat put her hand on the table, “The kid’s got a point. If we can get Loki to agree not to harm anyone on the conditions that he gets to go home, this might just work.”  
“I am not bringing an dangerous criminal out into the middle of Manhattan.”

Just then Clint reappeared with cup of coffee large enough that even Tony was mildly shocked. 

“What did I miss?”

Nat closed her eyes and sighed, “We were just discussing brining Loki out into public to prove he’s not dangerous so we can get him out of here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Clint plopped down in his chair. Steve glared down the table at him.

“Steve, if you would stop glaring holes in all my team members, we could just take a vote and end this.”

Steve sat back in chair, albeit very stiffly, “Fine.”

All in favor of taking Reindeer games on a field trip?”

Four hands went up.

“Peter you don’t get a vote.”

“It was my idea, Mr. Stark!”

“Let the kid vote.”

Tony glared at Nat but counted the vote.  
“Everyone in favor of keeping him in the basement?”

Steve’s hand went up. 

“Right, Reindeer Games goes on a field trip. Meeting adjourned goodbye.”

Tony stood and strolled out of the conference room. 

Slowly everyone trickled out until it was just Peter sitting on the table and Cap glaring at the table.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Excuse me.”

Peter grimaced, “Oops.”

“You’ve talked to him?” Steve nearly rocketed out of his chair he stood up so fast.

“Yeah. But please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Peter waved his hands frantically, “He’ll ground me for like a whole month.”

“Stay away from him and I won’t tell. And I mean stay away. Very far away.”

“Yes Mr. Rogers thank you.”

Peter lept from the table and scurried off down the hall. Steve sighed and followed him.

-

It was what Loki judged to be late at night when Tony came in the door. He judged this by both the dark bags under Tony’s eyes and the rumbling of his own stomach.  
Though Loki could survive much longer than a human without food, that didn’t mean he enjoyed it any less.

He looked up from his book, the third one that day, and smiled smoothly at the disheveled Tony, “You’ve deigned to return, perhaps with more flatware to lose this time.”

Tony scowled and handed Loki the plate, “You’re going on a field trip.”

“I am?” Loki closed the book and set it to the side. 

“You are. And we’ll even move you out of the basement if you cooperate.”

“I quite like my basement.” Loki replied, and he wasn’t exactly lying either. Though not anywhere near the extravagance of Asgard’s palace, it was a clean and appealing room with a very comfortable arm chair. 

Tony obviously took offense at Loki’s possessive statement about the basement, “First of all, it’s my basement. Second, you only get out of here if you promise not to cause any more destruction.”

“Please, explain to me why I should cooperate with you.”

Loki picked up the plate. It had a bowl on top of it and in the bowl was some kind of red pasta. He poked at it experimentally with the fork and then took a careful bite. Hissing, he set the pasta down, soothing his hot mouth with his tongue. Tony gave the pasta a stern look,“Because you get to go home.”

“I think I’ll be staying in the basement.” Loki left the pasta where it was and opened his book.

“You don’t want to go back to Asgard?” Tony asked carefully.

Loki laughed, teeth bared, “You know nothing of my life there.”

“Um no.” Tony’s sarcasm cut through Loki’s laughing and he stopped, closing his book and looking Tony dead in the eye. 

“No. Or else you would not be asking me to return.”

Tony pondered this for a moment, “So you’ll cooperate if you stay here.”

“Yes.”

Tony rubbed his face with his hand, “Cap’s gonna disown me for this.”

“He does not like me.”

“Look, I don’t know what goes on in that funny brain of yours, Loki. But if it means you won’t go around trying to take over Earth, I’ll make it work. And if you’re not going to eat this pasta, I’m taking it.”

“It’s hot.” Loki stated. 

Tony stared at him, “It’s like-” Tony poked the pasta, “lukewarm.”

“Hot.”

Tony frowned, “What are you, a polar bear?”

“Get out.” 

Suddenly Loki was standing, glaring down at Tony from under well groomed and very menacing eyebrows.  
Startled, Tony backed out of the room and closed the door very tightly. 

“Well fuck.”

-

Tony heaved himself onto a bar stool and put his head in his hands. Nat plopped herself down next to him and pushed some brandy his way. It was late enough now that most of the Avengers had quartered themselves away in their rooms, which left Nat and Tony alone at the bar.

“He doesn’t want to leave. In fact, I get the impression that he’ll do anything to not-leave.”

Nat peered at him out of the corner of her eye as he downed half the glass.

“Steve’s not gonna be happy about this.”

Tony gave a pained laugh, “We’ll all be dead by morning.”

Nat sighed, swirling her martini absentmindedly with a little umbrella.

“I wonder why he doesn’t want to leave.”

“”You know nothing of my life on Asgard”, that’s what he said.”

Nat let go of the umbrella and looked at Tony, “Something else is going on here.”

“He almost sounded scared.” Tony murmured, looking at his glass.

“Tony. Hey, Tony.”

He looked up at her, blinking, “What?”

“We’ll figure this out tomorrow. You need to sleep.”

Tony nodded at her, turning back to stare at his brandy. Nat sighed and got up, leaving him alone.

Scared. Loki had sounded scared. It had been slight, but Tony was sure. Tony could feel his chest tightening at thought that they were supposed to be sending him home. He couldn’t send Loki home. He knew the feeling leaving and finally having a sense of peace only to be brought home again and thrust back into the chaos.

He drank the rest of the brandy, picked up the bottle, and headed to his lab.


	4. Behind the Glamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is not always what he may seem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Self-harm, blood, depression, PTSD  
> Loki has emotions too, and sometimes those emotions get way out of control. Guys I'm sorry it took so damn long to post a new chapter of this thing but here we are

Loki woke angry and disheveled, lashing out at the comforter in a desperate bid to escape. He threw himself out of the bed and froze standing. After a very deep breath he relaxed and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He turned his hands over in his lap, running his fingers along the thick scars that lined his forearms. It had taken him far to long to get to sleep the night before, and now that he was awake he felt none the better.  
He folded his shaky fingers together, trying to shake the remnant chills of his nightmares; trying to force the tainted memories of a distant cave, of two very short and very pissed dwarves. Planting his bare feet on the carpet, Loki stood and clenched his fingers.   
Studiously ignoring his surroundings, Loki strode to the bathroom and filled the bath with cold water. Already the air around him was crackling and snapping, the temperature dropping as he stripped off the old T-shirt and borrowed sweat pants. Normally porcelain skin faded blue, markings rising from his skin as he stepped into the bathwater. He slunk down into a sitting position, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them.   
They were going to send him back.  
Images flashed across his mind, memories of damp stone and cold metal. The phantom taste of copper slid along his tongue and Loki clenched his teeth, nails digging into his skin. A knife appeared out of thin tumbling into the bathtub and landing with a clink with the chunky ice that had frozen across the surface of the water. His hand grabbed it blindly, though he had no memory of summoning it. Ice had crystalized on nearly every surface, reflecting Loki’s blood red eyes back at him.  
Taking the knife, he twirled it unconsciously before setting the blade against his skin. Tears blurred his vision as his body shook, the knife trembling in his hand. Metal bit into icy blue skin and pale red blood welled almost immediately, trailing the knife as he dragged it along his arm.   
His hand shook even more and the knife dropped from his grasp, vanishing before it could hit the iced bathwater.   
Blood dripped from his forearm, running in rivulets over the hundreds of years of scars layered across his skin. It pooled thickly on the icy bathwater. Loki took a long breath, letting the stinging pain shine light of clarity across the calamity ringing in his brain. The bathroom glittered with ice crystals that reflected meek warm light back a thousand fold, seeming to bathe every surface in fragmented light.   
Loki surged to his feet, ice cracking all around him as the temperature dropped even further. The mirror shattered. Glass cracked and flew everywhere, sprinkling the floor in bright shards.   
The god ignored them, striding across the bathroom and flinging the door open. The temperature dropped with a snap as he entered the room, throwing things aside with the barest twitches of his fingers as he strode to the middle of the carpet. Clenching his fists Loki conjured the symbol in his mind, crystal clear, and then threw it down at the carpet. Air crackled and snapped and green flame seemed to dance around him for a moment as the magic sparked into existence, then faded again, leaving only a symbol burned into the carpet. With half a thought, he strengthened the wards he’d thrown around the room and summoned his armor. 

-

The air was biting outside, the wind stinging Loki’s face as he stood at the edge of the water. He’d managed to pick a reasonably deserted bit of beach, but he could still sense the few people behind him, hear the faint whispers about him. He sat down on the rocky sand, crossing his legs beneath him and watching the water ripple against the sand. Cloudy sunlight was reflected against the wave-crossed surface of the water and the smell of salt and rain hung low against the ground.  
He watched the waves, letting his thoughts wander freely, feeling a quiet sense of peace come against him. And then there were shouts behind him, some of them screams, some of the taunts. Loki sighed and turned his head to look over his shoulder. People had their little devices pointed at him, pointing and staring. The sense of temporary peace evaporated and Loki rolled gracefully to his feet. Human eyes watched him warily, full of fear and excitement. Vaguely, Loki wished they’d never made it past the age of the Vikings and then teleported himself back into the basement.   
With meticulous care, Loki stripped off his layers of clothing until he was wearing nothing but his leather leggings and then summoned a black linen shirt, which he pulled on over his head before going to find Stark.


	5. Carpet Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony gets possessive about his things, and Loki destroys them.

When Tony emerged late next morning, his hair tousled and grease smudged across his cheek and forehead, he found Cap and Nat already awake. 

“Jesus, Tony. Did you sleep at all?”

He shook his head and pulled the coffee pot from the counter. Someone had already brewed some and Tony emptied the pot into a mostly clean mug. And plonked himself down on the couch across from Steve and Nat.

They sat in silence for a long moment, Tony quickly draining his mug of coffee.  
Cap spoke, “I’ve been told that Loki is being very stubborn on the subject of returning to Asgard.”

“Yeah.” Tony muttered into his empty mug. 

He caught Natasha’s warning hand against Steve’s leg out of the corner of his eye and sighed quietly. 

“He’s not going back.”

“Excuse me?”

Tony look Steve in the eye, “He’s not going back.”

“He’s a threat.”

“No.”

Steve looked to be in imminent danger of leaping across the table towards Tony.   
Instead those blue eyes bored into him, “He’s killed hundreds. He’s an alien from another planet with powers we cannot understand, and you’re telling me he’s harmless?”

Tony stared back.

Cap’s jaw clenched, “Tony, he’s not staying here.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I can. And I will.”

With that, Steve stormed out of the room, leaving Tony and Natasha alone. 

“He’s not going to stop me.” Tony repeated.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Stark.”

He sighed and slammed the mug down on the coffee table. Determined to prove his point, Tony set off towards the elevator, still dressed in his ratty t-shirt and sweatpants with grease smudged on his skin. 

“Where to, sir?” JARVIS asked when he entered the elevator.

“Basement. We’re going to see Loki.”

“Shall I inform him that you are coming?” JARVIS asked as the doors slid shut and the elevator began its descent downwards.

“Sure, yeah.” Tony replied as he tried in vain to tame his messy brown hair.   
When he reached the door to Loki’s cell he paused for a moment, remembering their encounter the last time he’d seen the god. 

He opened the door to the immaculate looking room to find Loki lounging in chair, long legs thrown lazily over the armrest, nose buried once again in a book. There was also, he noticed, a very strange symbol burned into his carpet.

“What the hell happened to my carpet?”

“I did not know the carpet was so dear to you.” Loki’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, though he deigned to turn his face towards Tony. Instead Tony was left to observe the long and shapely legs sticking out of the chair and the spray of curly black hair that fell over the other armrest. The top of Loki’s book stuck out over the back of the chair.

“Seriously, what did you do to it.”

“I may have imbued a sigil into it.”

“You imbued a what now into it?”

“A sigil.”

There was a strange tingling against the base of Tony’s skull as Loki rose from the armchair and faced him. The god was clad in long, dark leathers with a sort of casual overcoat over top of them. At least his hair looked like it had been washed. 

“Ok explain.”

Loki raised one eyebrow, “A sigil.”

“Look, buddy. I don’t speak magic so your gonna have to give a better reason for ruining my carpet.”

Loki studied the carpet for a moment, “I think it looks rather elegant.”

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “Whatever. Keep the burned carpet. I came here to tell you that Cap is hell bent on sending you home. And so is most of Earth.”

Loki’s face tightened, his expression turning cold as he looked away. Tony studied the god’s profile, wondering what he could be thinking. 

“You have been through torture, if my information is correct.”

Tony started, images of the cave, the desert flashing through his mind. Yinsen. Oh god. He could feel his hands shaking. He shoved them in his pocket, trying not to let the fear show on his face. Trying so hard to give away none of the anxiety he felt constricting his chest. The nuke. 

Loki’s eyes narrowed, and Tony got the impression that his act was fooling no one. 

“Yeah.” He muttered.

Loki nodded slowly, “Then you understand why I do not wish to return.”

Tony’s eyes snapped to Loki’s. They betrayed nothing, not even a hint of discomfort. Tony almost hated Loki for seeming so calm about it.   
“You. Aren’t you like prince or something?”

Loki’s eyes turned hard and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. He automatically took a step back and instantly regretted it when those blue-greens eyes turned from cold to angry. 

“Perhaps I should leave. It seems that here too I am feared amongst the people, hated and isolated. Do you want me to leave, Stark? Vacate your precious basement?”

Tony froze, unsure of how to respond to that. He didn’t exactly want Loki to leave, but the god was scaring him. 

“Do you?” Loki asked again, prowling closer.

Tony opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.

“DO YOU?” The god was shouting now, his voice angry and deep. Fire blazed in his cold eyes and the room seemed to flicker.

Tony stared up at Loki who was looming menacingly. Very carefully, Tony shook his head. 

Loki stood still for a moment, the faintest hints of emotions flitting across his face before he took a step back. The fringes of the room solidified again and the temperature warmed slightly. 

“Leave me.”

Tony could’ve sworn he’d heard the slightest tinge of regret and sorrow in the god’s voice, but he wasn’t sure. 

“What I came down here to say…” Tony trailed off as Loki’s gaze fixed on him. He swallowed thickly and tried again, “I came to tell you there’s no way I’m letting them send you home.”

Loki looked at him very carefully for a long moment before sitting on the edge of the sofa. The god said nothing, simply watching Tony with that intese gaze. 

“So um, that’s the plan. Yay you’re not going home.”

He waited for the god to react. 

“Oh come on dude, aren’t you gonna be happy or something?”

“I am less angry.” Loki replied delicately, “But I believe I ought to apologize for the state of this room.”

Tony stared at the god, “The room?”

“You took quite harshly to my carpet inscription, after all.”

Tony continued to stare at the god, a baffled look on his face. 

Loki closed his eyes and the tingling against the back of Tony’s neck vanished. He blinked, and suddenly they were standing in an entirely different room. Furniture was smashed against the walls, splinters strewn across the floor. Books had been thrown from the shelves and one of the great bookcases had toppled over. The bed was a disaster, and scuffs and scratches adorned the walls. 

“What the-”  
Tony stared at the damage.

“What happened?” He asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“You threatened me.” Loki replied simply. Tony could see the bags under his   
eyes now, the way the god’s shoulders slumped forwards as he sat on the arm of the couch. His black hair was tangled and frizzy. 

Tony shook his head, “I didn’t.”

Loki’s gaze took on a pitying colour, “You threatened to send me home.”

“Oh. Well, I threatened to not send you home after that.”

The barest hint of a smile appeared on Loki’s wan face as he rose from the couch.

“I like you.”

Tony blinked. “Thanks?”

Now Loki did laugh. It was a quite laugh, laced with the sounds of tears that had been choked back, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Tony flashed a lopsided grin, “Come on, princess, you need a proper meal.”


	6. Elevator Trips and Coffee Mugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki smashes a coffee mug and Tony is disgruntled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty guys I know this has taken me absolutely ages to post and I'm super sorry about that; school and my other projects have had me drowning in work. Just like everything else so far this chapter hasn't be been beta'd but here's hoping your enjoy it anyway.

Tony led Loki out of the basement and shepherded him into the elevator, “Cap’s convinced you’re gonna burn this place to hell.”

Loki stared straight ahead, the bags heavy under his eyes as he sighed and closed them, “He needn’t worry.”

“Try telling him that.” Tony muttered. 

The elevators doors dinged open, expelling them onto Tony’s private floor.   
“You sure you wanna stay in the basement, princess?”

Loki said nothing, his wary gaze raking across every inch of the room as Tony led them through to the kitchen. 

“What do you eat? I’m out of pigs on spits.”

Loki’s gaze snapped towards him, one of those impeccable eyebrows raised. Tony raised his hands in mock defense, “I’m just asking.”

Loki snorted and sat carefully on one of the barstools, “Do you have the coffee substance?”

Tony grinned, “Of course.”

He set the coffee pot on and dumped some ground beans into the filter. As it puttered along, making little hissing and gurgling noises, Tony turned to face Loki, leaning casually against the counter in the most non-threatening manner he could manage. 

“What do you do in your spare time, when you’re not busy trying to take over the world?”

Loki smirked, “It varies.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, princess.” 

The coffee machine clicked and dinged, announcing that it had finished its job. Tony pulled two mugs from the cabinet, “Cream? Sugar?”

“Neither.”

Tony nodded, “A man after my own heart.”

“I did not think myself your type.” Loki’s eyebrows shot up and Tony backtracked, “I meant the coffee. Milk coffee is for Steves only.”

Loki accepted the proffered cup but pinned Tony down with that curious, sarcastic expression, “I am not a Steve, Tony, son of Stark.”

Tony nearly choked on his coffee, “Dude. Quit it with the son of Stark business.”

Loki only shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, “I mean no disrespect.”

“Yeah ok I don’t know how you guys do it back in Viking-Ville, but down here on Earth, people generally call each other by their names.”

Loki sipped his coffee and stared at Tony over the rim of the mug. He sighed, “Alright. Call me whatever the hell you want to so long as it doesn’t bring to mind my father.”

“He wronged you?” Loki suddenly seemed angry, like he was about to leap out of his chair and stab whoever had done Tony this imaginary wrong. 

“No? He just wasn’t very nice.”

“Fathers are not nice.” Loki muttered into his mug. 

“You got daddy issues too, princess?”

Tony phrased the question causally, but his tone was cautious. 

Green eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, “My true father abandoned me to die. Odin kept me as a peace offering. I was always second to Thor, and not only in my Father’s eyes. Thor was the first-born, the heir, the Crown Prince. They loved him. Adored him.” Loki’s voice turned cold and hard, ‘I was the second son, the one with the feminine ways. The trickster who could not be trusted.”

Tony swallowed as Loki’s eyes flicked back to his, an ancient pain and anger alive in their depths.

“Dad are assholes, no need to be a pussy about it.”

The mug shattered in Loki’s hand and Tony leapt straight up into the air like a cat, automatically climbing onto the counter in his fright. 

Loki looked at the shattered mug, then at Tony, who was cowering underneath the microwave, then back at the mug. He blinked, carefully setting the remains of the mug on the counter. With a flick of his long fingers, Loki pulled the mug back together, the coffee flying back through the air and into the mug. Tony stared at the mug, the at the god behind it.

Loki seemed almost ashamed of himself, and Tony quickly scrambled back to the floor. 

“How did you do that?”

Blue eyes looked up at him, “I am a witch.”

Tony paused, trying to phrase his next question in a way that wouldn’t cause further harm to the mug, “Aren’t witches… female?”

“Witch is neither male nor female.”

“Huh.” Tony shrugged, “That’s neat.”

Loki laughed, “Does my male form not suit your vision of a witch? Perhaps this will assuage your confusion.”

The god disappeared in a flash of gold light, leaving Tony staring a raven haired woman dressed in Loki’s green leathers. Tony coughed, “That’s- yeah. Ok great you can come back now.”

Loki reappeared with a grin plastered across his noble face, “Do I fluster you, Stark?”

“Yep. Yeah. Flustered. That’s me.”

The god laughed, and Tony grinned up at him. “C’mon, let me find you a room that doesn’t look like Armageddon happened in it.”

Loki shook his head, eyes flashing with mirth, “You forget that I am a witch. Though I could perhaps find a room to my liking here.”

“You get the second bedroom.”

“And who am I second to this time?” Loki asked, as he followed Tony down the hallway.  
“Me. This is my floor.”

Loki made a little noise of acknowledgement, though his expression turned to mild disgruntlement when Tony showed him the room.

“I shall have to redecorate.”

“What?” Tony asked, offended.

“This is too… brash. It looks so very human.”

“Yeah ok, Princess, you do whatever you want. Just ask J.A.R.V.I.S for anything you need. I’m going to the workshop.”

And with that Tony left the bewildered Loki standing the hall as he strode off in a huff. Redecorate his ass. Tony’s taste was impeccable. He had the word of half the female population in the city to back him up on that. 

Loki could go fuck himself for that one, Tony thought as he stomped into the elevator, “Basement.”

The doors slid shut and the elevator slid downwards. Whatever. At least he’d gotten the god out of the basement. 

That was a solid start.


End file.
